Unlocking it now. As soon as you step in, shut the door behind you and the magnetic lock will engage automatically.

Check, she said, using one of Uncle Jed’s operator words.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt him closing on her. Victor’s spindly and decrepit appearance was an illusion. He was powered by evil and much stronger and more lethal than he looked. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was as strong as Uncle Jed. She’d once overheard Corbin talking about how the Dark Ones seemed to have superhuman strength and endurance. She stretched out her strides, pushing herself to the limit, but she knew it wasn’t enough. He was going to catch her before she made it to the White Room.

Legs burning and lungs heaving, she made a split-second decision to juke left and take one of the connecting corridors leading back to West Hall. In a straight line, Victor was faster, but she was a kid and could change directions better than him. At least, she hoped she could. She rounded the corner without breaking stride. The one good thing about running barefoot on a waxed tile floor was it gave her incredible traction. Just before making the next turn north, she projected to look around the corner and check behind her—almost tripping in the process—but confirming first that the coast was clear and second that Victor had indeed followed her into the turn. Her projected self locked eyes with him. She felt his hunger and hatred burning, like the heat from being too close to a flame. More disturbing, she saw a ghostly demon visage swirling and morphing over his face, but not just one demonic face—a cascade of grotesque and hideous almost-human things that changed and twisted from one to the next to the next.

He was closing on her fast now.

I’m not going to make it . . .

Fear surged her adrenaline and she pushed herself to the limits of what her twelve-year-old body was capable of. She lengthened her stride. She increased the speed with which her throbbing feet slammed into the tile floor.

God, please . . . please let me make it. For me but also for my parents. And for all the other kids . . .

She could see the white door now, around the corner in her projected self. She turned and saw her physical body behind her, running with a speed that seemed impossible.

And behind her, Victor ran—not like a skeletal, frail man-thing but like an Olympic athlete.

She sucked back into herself, screaming out to Corbin as she did.

Open the door to the elevator! Be ready to close it right away!

It’s open, came Corbin’s tense voice.

She rounded the corner, the door already open.

She could hear him behind her, but far enough, she thought.